I Never Wanted Any of This
by southernsara
Summary: Cressida had doubts about the girl's leadership potential, but after that fateful day in District 8, she knew Katniss was something special. / There was only so much pressure that one person could take. Where could Katniss turn when she just wanted to be normal for a while?
1. Are You Here to Fight with Us?

**A/N:** This is my first fic after years of being an avid reader. I couldn't find much Katniss/Cressida, so I thought I'd try writing my own. I am using the books as well as the movies as reference material. Please do review and let me know what I'm doing wrong or right! I couldn't resist making poorly-photoshopped cover art. I hope everyone appreciates the glorious cheesiness of it.

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><p>Cressida and crew followed behind Katniss, Gale, and the other soldiers as they trekked through the rubble of District 8 to the makeshift hospital. She studied Katniss in an attempt to figure the younger girl out. The Mockingjay costume and bow and arrows lent her an aura of power, but Cressida wasn't convinced.<p>

"I didn't expect her to be so . . . vulnerable."

Messalla shifted his equipment and looked at Cressida questioningly. "What do you mean?"

"The way the Capitol portrays her, not to mention the way Heavensbee described her, I expected someone more . . . I don't know . . . commanding." Cressida's eyes narrowed and her lips pursed to one side as she considered the problem. "The girl lacks confidence. Not in her abilities, but in her appeal. She doesn't think she's worthy of being a leader."

"Does she not realize how many people are risking their lives for her?" Messalla and Castor shared an incredulous look. "Hell, we're risking our own necks to help keep her in the public's eye."

"She'll realize it soon enough. Something tells me she'll have a new perspective on things by the time we leave here today."

Cressida knew her prediction was correct as she followed closely behind Katniss into the temporary morgue and then into the main room of the hospital. She watched Katniss' face while the group moved down the main aisle and surveyed the sea of humanity laid out around them. The traumatized survivors were doing their best to tend to their most severely-injured neighbors.

"Katniss? Is it really you?" The survivors had realized who was in their midst and began to crowd around her, clamoring for a glimpse. Some reached out their hands and Katniss didn't hesitate to take them in her own. Even those who were too injured to reach out received her comforting touch.

Cressida took it all in with the propo in mind. Her practiced eye made sure her crew captured every angle and every expression. It was all there. Relief, gratitude, hope, skepticism . . . these people desperately needed something or someone to look to. Cressida could only hope that the girl had the fortitude within her to rise to the occasion.

Despite the questions about Peeta that Cressida could tell were painful, Katniss answered everyone with grace and kindness. Cressida noticed that despite the frenzy that had arisen, one boy stood away from the rest and seemed to be scrutinizing Katniss as she tried to give attention to everyone that asked for it. Finally, he spoke.

Raising his voice to be heard over the din, he asked, "Are you fighting, Katniss? Are you here to fight with us?"

Cressida quickly swung her gaze back to Katniss. Silence had fallen in the room following the young man's question. Everyone waited to see how Katniss would react. Her face reflected the compassion and newly-found determination that Cressida had hoped she would find.

Cressida spoke into her communication unit. "Tight on her face, guys, and we need to stay on the boy, too. Her face says it all and I want his reaction. Crowd reaction immediately following." She had a feeling this moment would go a long way to convincing more people to trust and follow Katniss.

"I am. I will."

There was a collective exhale, and, one by one, the survivors each raised three fingers to their lips and then into the air. The Mockingjay's salute. In just four words, Katniss had managed to bring hope and a new determination to District 8, and, with any luck, the rest of Panem. There was something special there, just beneath the surface, and it was now her job to make sure that _this_ Katniss showed up more often.

"Get as much of this crowd reaction as you can. This is gold." Cressida was impressed. Perhaps there was more to this girl than even she had hoped.

She watched as Katniss assumed the role of ardent leader. It had only taken a few short minutes for her to transform from a frightened girl to the impassioned young woman now standing on a table with an adoring crowd smiling up at her. As the District 13 group prepared to leave, Cressida had to admit that she had underestimated Katniss.

The crew emerged into the hot sun outside the hospital. Cressida turned to Katniss, smiling. "We got some nice stuff in there."

"I didn't do much, really." Away from the crowd, Katniss' demeanor changed. She seemed to shrink back inside of herself.

"You did great, kid. You gave those people hope." Cressida wanted to encourage the girl, maybe get some more footage of the destruction of District 8 while Katniss was feeling confident. "Hell, you gave _me_ hope!" That prompted a small smile. Cressida realized that it was the first smile she had seen from Katniss. She hoped it wouldn't be the last. She grinned in return and reached down to help Katniss up from where she had been resting on a large piece of rubble. "Let's get back to the hovercraft. We've got some damn good footage to put together for the first propo!"

Cressida's smile faltered the tiniest bit as their hands clasped and grey eyes met her own. A small shiver ran up her arm and down her spine. _What the hell was that?_ She mentally shook herself and pulled Katniss to her feet, hoping the girl didn't notice her momentary lapse.

"OK, kid, let's talk about some thoughts I have for the next shoot." Cressida was interrupted by the urgent shouting of Boggs, the lead soldier.

"We're to get to the airstrip immediately. We have incoming bombers."

Cressida checked around her to make sure her crew were safely together and heading in the right direction. She hoped like hell they would make it out of this one. They had to get this footage out to the people. She knew the future of the rebellion very likely depended on it.


	2. This Is What They Do

Just as the warning sirens in District 8 began to wail, the first bomb hit and Katniss was knocked to the ground, dust and debris raining down around her. The Capitol's hoverplanes had appeared out of nowhere, and now they were under siege. Katniss felt a second shock-wave and tried to stand, only to find Cressida pulling her back down. Panicked, she struggled against her hold.

"Stay down, damn it! We need to wait for orders." Cressida shook her hard, snapping Katniss from the blind panic that had wound its barbed tendrils around her mind. She took a few deep breaths, feeling the tightness in her chest ease somewhat. Somehow, keeping her eyes on Cressida's helped her stay present and grounded.

Katniss knew they needed to find better cover, but she didn't know this district, didn't know where she would be safe. Just as she was about to wrench herself from Cressida's grasp and run to the nearest building she could find, she heard Plutarch's voice in her ear piece. "Head to the blue warehouse two hundred yards away on your left. There's a bunker in the north corner."

Katniss waited for the hoverplanes to pass, and then, shaking free from Cressida, sprinted in the direction Plutarch had indicated. As she neared the building, she caught sight of Gale heading in the opposite direction.

"Gale! What are you doing? The bunker is this way!" She turned to follow him, only to be stopped short by the next wave of bombing. She ducked behind one of the few walls left standing in her vicinity to shield herself from flying debris. Suddenly, she found that was being yanked to her feet and pulled away from her cover.

Katniss watched as the wall she had taken shelter behind fell, slamming rubble into the ground where she had been crouching just seconds ago. She turned to see who had pulled her from harm's way and found Cressida looking at her with wide eyes.

"Shit, that was close! You OK, kid?"

Katniss nodded to let her know that she was fine, but she had more important things to think about than yet another close call. "Did you see where Gale went? He was running away from the bunker! We have to find him!"

Cressida was shaking her head. "I don't think the Capitol knows you're here, and we need to keep it that way! We need the element of surprise."

"What do you mean they don't know I'm here? Why else would they be bombing again?" Katniss looked back in the direction she had seen Gale running. As she watching the bombs fall, she realized she wasn't being targeted, something else was. _The hospital!_ _No!_ She took off toward the hospital as fast as she could, drawing her bow and an explosive arrow as she went.

Turning a corner, she spotted Gale on the top of a building overlooking the hospital. She hurried up a set of stairs and joined him at the building's ledge. The hospital was already ablaze, and a few soldiers were struggling to make a path into the inferno to rescue the others. Katniss looked to the sky, and saw that the hoverplanes were circling back to make another pass. She exchanged a look with Gale and they both raised their weapons to aim at the approaching crafts.

Their arrows hit their targets, and two hoverplanes spiraled out of the sky, exploding a couple hundred yards behind where Katniss and Gale were standing. She felt a surge of victory watching the planes explode, but the feeling was short-lived. She and Gale ran down the steps and through the smoke toward the burning hospital. The closer they got, the sicker she felt.

There was no way anyone had survived the attack. The roof had collapsed and what was left of the building was completely engulfed in flames. The hospital was now a tomb.

Katniss stood surveying the carnage. She felt the rage and sorrow grow inside of her chest, clamping down like a vice on her heart, squeezing until she thought it would burst. Someone grasped her hand, tugging, imploring her to turn. It was Cressida. Her steady gaze pierced the reverberations of pain that emanated from deep inside, trying to pull Katniss under.

"He aired this, Katniss," she said. "He put this atrocity on live television to send a message to the rebels. Do _you_ have a message for the rebels?"

Katniss nodded. With nothing more than a small squeeze of Katniss' hand, Cressida stepped back and directed her crew to focus on Katniss and the smoldering mass grave just behind her.

. . .

Katniss was still dazed when, a short while later, the shell-shocked soldiers and media crew trudged through the dust and smoke to where the hovercraft was waiting to carry them back to District 13. When it seemed that the Capitol had made its point and would not be sending any more bombers, Plutarch decided it was safe to land.

She supposed she should be used to the shock, the trauma, the fear, but each incident just built on the last until Katniss felt like she was suffocating within her own body. Well-meaning people would periodically urge her to talk to someone, anyone, about what she had been through. Who the hell was she supposed to talk to? Gale hadn't been where she had been, and anyway it made them both uncomfortable to talk about her time in the games with Peeta. Oh, Peeta. Couldn't talk to him, either. Even if he were around, there was too much pressure and confusion between them.

Was she supposed to talk to a stranger? Someone who couldn't even fathom the things she had witnessed? The horrors that had been inflicted upon her, and that she had been forced to inflict upon others? The suggestion would have been laughable if Katniss laughed much anymore. So she kept it all in. She knew it wasn't healthy, but what choice did she have?

She found herself seated in the hovercraft, wondering how she had gotten there. She didn't remember climbing inside or strapping in, but they were already taking off. Fighting fatigue, she raised her head and glanced around the plane, taking in the exhausted countenances surrounding her. The experienced soldiers were taking the opportunity to have a nap, while Gale simply stared at the floor. The cameramen were busy reviewing the footage they had captured, but when Katniss' gaze landed on Cressida, who was seated directly across from her, the older woman was looking right back.

"I would tell you to try to get some rest, but I imagine it's impossible to turn your brain off right now." Cressida gestured to her camera. "We got some terrific footage. You did some amazing stuff back there. I'm impressed, kid."

Katniss rolled her eyes. "Do you _have_ to call me "kid?" You can't be much older than me."

Cressida just laughed. "About five years, give or take. I guess that's not all that much in the grand scheme of things."

"You must have started working in media pretty early. I would have thought that directors would be a lot older."

"Most are," Cressida agreed. "I was something of a novelty; precocious, if you will. I found myself in the right place at the right time to gain experience early."

"Why did you leave? Why join the rebellion if you were successful and happy?"

"I never said I was happy. But that's a story for another time, perhaps." Cressida closed her eyes and leaned her head back on her seat. "I have a long night of editing ahead of me. I think I'll try to get a few minutes of sleep."

Katniss watched her sleep. Cressida hadn't pushed her to talk about what had happened, hadn't even asked how she felt. And she was impressed, which, for some reason, made Katniss a little bit embarrassed but the tiniest bit giddy at the same time. She hadn't done anything she thought particularly remarkable. Hell, she couldn't even recall what she had ranted about outside the hospital. Something about fire, and the Capitol burning. Oh, well, she'd see the footage soon enough. For now she was content to study the tattoo on the side of Cressida's head. It was oddly soothing to trace the pattern over and over, over her scalp, down her neck, across her shoulder. She wondered about its significance. Maybe she'd ask about it later, if she thought about it. She barely had time to think about anything other than surviving hour to hour, but something about this woman made her want to make time.


	3. Fire Is Catching

It had been several hours since the return from District 8, and while Katniss recovered, Cressida was spending her time editing the footage they had captured. She was exhausted, but exhilarated at the same time. There was so much there. The morgue, the hospital, the bombing, Katniss' heroics, and finally her impassioned speech. Cressida couldn't have asked for more for their first propo.

"If we burn, you burn with us!" Cressida zoomed out on the shot, electing to take advantage of the menacing flames and smoke behind Katniss. The girl was positively glowing with righteous anger and determination. _I really do have to stop calling her "kid." _

She zoomed back in for a close up for the next shot. The look in Katniss' eyes caused her hands to pause in their careful manipulation of the equipment controls. Cressida had seen that look before; the sharp glint of rage that almost succeeds in hiding the unimaginable pain that lurks behind it. She had seen that haunting expression in eyes of a different color. She hadn't consciously thought of those eyes in years, and she allowed herself just a moment to remember. They were brown with tiny specks of gold. They had twinkled with laughter and flashed with anger. Cressida had liked them best when they shimmered with passion. Once in a while, when she was lucky, she thought they had even sparkled with something akin to love.

She was thankful when the sound of a door closing snapped her back to the present. Shaking her head to clear it, she vowed to return those memories to the lockbox from which they had escaped. She gave herself a little pep talk. _No need dredging all that bullshit up. You've got too much to think about. You can't afford to start wallowing. Shake it off._

She looked at the clock; one hour until the briefing. _I may actually be able to get a hour or two of sleep tonight if I hurry up and finish this thing._

. . .

After getting a few hours rest since the propo began airing the night before, Cressida was waiting in Command for the morning briefing. She was anxious to hear if there had been any reaction to the propo. She was equally as anxious to see how Katniss was faring. Katniss had been carried off the hovercraft upon their return and had been in the hospital ever since.

Cressida heard the door to the meeting room open and turned to see Katniss being wheeled in. She looked down at the wheelchair and back up at Cressida, rolling her eyes to express her frustration with her situation.

"Couldn't talk your way out of it, huh?"

Katniss shook her head. "My mother insisted. And I already felt bad enough that I didn't tell her I was going to District 8 in the first place."

"It's probably for the best. You took quite a beating out there. I was impressed with how you took out those bombers." The doors opened once more and Cressida nodded a greeting to Plutarch and President Coin.

"Glad to see you're looking well, Katniss." President Coin paused to rest her hand on Katniss' shoulder. "Let's take a look at what the districts have been seeing all night, shall we?" Moving to her seat at the head of the table, she directed Plutarch to start the video.

It was a work of art if she said so herself. Cressida watched the propo with a critical eye, but couldn't find much wrong with it. And from what she had heard, it had inspired the reaction they had hoped for in the districts. They had even managed to get it on the air in District 2, which could be the most important, strategically speaking.

Smiling, she turned to Katniss to see her reaction. The smile quickly faded when she saw Katniss' ashen face and the way her hands clutched the arms of her wheelchair. She hadn't considered how traumatic the day must have been for Katniss and how hard it would be to watch the destruction she had lived through. She reached over and pried one of Katniss' hands from the death grip she had on the chair.

Cressida held Katniss' hand between hers, rubbing her thumb over the back of it. Katniss turned to her with a haunted look in her eyes. "You're safe, kid. You did great out there, and the people need to see what Snow has done. You're OK now."

Katniss nodded, her gaze fixed on their hands. "I know. I just keep thinking about those people in the hospital. I wish I could have done more to save them."

"Oh, Katniss, there was nothing you could've done. The best you can do now is make sure everyone knows what happened to them. And don't give up. Don't let their deaths be in vain."

"I won't. Snow won't be able to hide behind his lies anymore. Not with you guys and Beetee on the job." Katniss glanced back at the screen to watch the hovercraft she'd shot tumbling out of the sky and slamming into the ground. "Wow, I didn't realize you guys were right behind me the whole time! Did any of your guys get hurt?"

"Ha! No! They know how to keep their asses out of the way." Cressida was relieved to see a small smile flit across Katniss' face. It wasn't much, but it was better than the distressed look she was wearing just a few moments before. "We're all fine; not even a scratch."

"Sure the fire didn't scorch some of your hair off?" Kressida joked sheepishly.

"Oh! The Mockingjay has jokes now!" They shared a wry smile before turning their attention back to President Snow, who was speaking again now that the video was over. Cressida was only half paying attention. She couldn't stop herself from stealing quick glances at the young woman beside her. It didn't help that Katniss had been reluctant to let go of her hand. Short of forcibly removing herself from her grip, there wasn't much Cressida could do about it. And if it made Katniss feel more secure, so be it. It was a bit distracting, though. It had been a long time since Cressida had held hands with someone. She had to admit it was kind of nice.

After the meeting was over, Cressida offered to wheel Katniss back to the hospital. "I want to run something by you. I have an idea for the next propo, and I want to make sure you're up for it."

Katniss nodded. "What do you have in mind?"

"I know you haven't been back to District 12 since Snow had it destroyed. I was thinking we could film you and Gale returning to see the damage. What do you think?" Cressida held her breath. She hoped her idea wouldn't upset the girl further.

Katniss was quiet for so long, Cressida stopped the wheelchair and walked around to face her. She looked thoughtful, but not particularly upset. "I would like to go back. It will be strange to be filmed, but I think I can handle it."

"Great! Try to get some rest. We'll most likely leave in a day or two."

"Rest. Right." Katniss rubbed at her eyes and sighed. "Easier said than done."

"Nightmares, huh?" Katniss nodded. Cressida knelt down and took both of Katniss' hands in hers for the second time that day. She looked up at the tired girl. "Look. I know it sucks right now. It feels like you're living a nightmare, but then you try to sleep and it just gets worse. But I promise you it will get better. Eventually. Talk about it with someone. I don't care who. Just don't try to keep it all bottled up, and it will get better."

Katniss looked skeptical. "Everyone says that. How do you know?"

Cressida shook her head. "Just trust me. I know. It won't happen overnight, and it won't ever go away completely, but it will get better." When it looked like Katniss might question her further, Cressida dropped her hands and stood up. Moving behind the chair, she resumed their progress down the hall.

. . .

When Katniss arrived at Remake the following morning, Cressida could tell something had happened. That she hadn't slept (again) was obvious, but it was more than that. Cressida knew better than to pry. Not with the wall that Katniss was projecting.

Cressida was almost reluctant to propose a trip to District 12 for that day, but Katniss said she could handle it, so after a more-awkward-than-usual session with the prep team, they headed to the hovercraft. The tension between Gale and Katniss was subtle, but evident enough for Cressida to pick up on as they discuss the impact of the first propo and make plans for the day's filming.

After a short, mostly unfruitful stop at Katniss' old house and an emotional interview at Gale's, the women lag behind the rest of the group on the walk to the woods where they used to hunt. The memories seemed to have softened Katniss' defenses, if only temporarily, and Cressida took the opportunity to query.

"What's going on with you and Gale?" Katniss jerked her head around in surprise, and seemed ready to deny that there was anything wrong. Cressida shook her head. "Don't think I didn't notice how pissed you were this morning, and how you've been keeping as far from him as possible without being too obvious. To anyone but me, of course."

Katniss sighed and looked away. She stayed silent for so long that Cressida thought she had pushed too hard. Then, taking a deep, shuddering breath, the young woman answered, "I feel like he's not on my side anymore. He's keeping things from me."

Cressida released the breath she didn't realize she had been holding. She knew it took a lot of trust for Katniss to open up to someone, and while she was honored to be that person, she was also apprehensive. She had built walls of her own years ago, but she couldn't seem to keep herself from inviting Katniss over the drawbridge.

Not willing to analyze those feelings right then, Cressida simply nodded. "Why would he keep things from you, do you think?"

"Why, to protect me of course," Katniss replied with a sardonic smile.

"And you don't believe that?"

"If I believe it, then it's just insulting. If I don't believe it, then he's not the person I remember." Katniss shook her head. "He's working so much with Coin and the others these days. Meeting with them, wearing their communicuff. It worries me."

"Are you worried that he's becoming too closely involved with them, or is it that he's not as closely involved with you?" Cressida watched Katniss' reaction and hoped that she hadn't crossed a line. Thankfully, that didn't appear to be the case.

"You mean am I just jealous?" Cressida gave a little shrug and nodded. Katniss shook her head. "Gale can do what he wants. I just don't want him to be blinded by revenge and end up a pawn the same way I was. And I don't like being lied to and manipulated."

They watched as Gale pointed out landmarks and favorite hunting spots and the crew got everything on camera. Even here there were bodies to film for dramatic effect. By the time they reached the lake, Cressida knew it was time for a break.

"Let's take a breather, cool down, and try to eat something." She found a comfy-looking rock at the edge of the water and dug in her pack for her lunch.

Looking down the shoreline, she watched Katniss as she naturally gravitated toward Pollux. _Always goes for the one she thinks might need her help or protection. _There was that gentle smile that Cressida had observed when Katniss had spoken with Rue or Mags, or even Prim. As she watched, Pollux prompted Katniss to sing for the mockingjays. For a moment it looked as though she would decline, but then a strange look appeared on her face. She jumped to her feet and walked to the maple tree she and Pollux had been using for shade during their meal. Running her hand over the trunk of the tree, she closed her eyes and began to sing.

The song was haunting. Even the mockingjays fell silent. Cressida nudged Castor, making sure he was recording the moment. This was what they had come to District 12 to find. This was the moment. The emotion. The memories. Katniss was no professional. But her voice was powerful in in simplicity, in its pain. She had turned and leaned against the tree, letting her head fall back against it, and Cressida couldn't take her eyes off of her. She thought that she could listen to her sing forever.


End file.
